In the Still and Silent Dark
by anotherdance
Summary: An incident too close to the destruction of Vulcan for comfort hightens Jim's awareness of the value he's come to place on his First Officer. Kirk/Spock slash.


Notes: Kirk/Spock slash, with implied Kirk/McCoy. If you don't like slash, please don't read further. Rated T for implied violence and sexual content. Set post-movie.

**In the Still and Silent Dark**

The first night he falls into bed with Spock follows a dark day of bloodshed and horror.

The fallout from the war on Lyrac IX is scattered around the ship in the form of just a handful of survivors. An entire civilization is gone because they were just that little too late. It's a scene Jim has witnessed too many times already in his brief service as captain of the _USS Enterprise_.

He comes to terms with his failings via a bottle of bourbon he lifts from Bones' stash. Bourbon is an old man's drink but a legitimate bottle of the stuff is worth its weight in gold and Jim's got used to it after many a night of drinking with Bones in the doctor's office or his own quarters or anywhere they manage to find some peace and quiet.

He'd have to be drunk to think he'd find whatever he needs with a Vulcan and as Spock sleeps, Jim wonders if Spock's still seeing his own planet disappearing into the black hole over and over...

Jim's visions alternate between Lyrac IX and Vulcan until he can no longer separate the two incidents and he presses an apologetic kiss to Spock's temple, shuffling closer, trying to offer some kind of comfort with nothing but the warm weight of his body.

It's the only way he knows.

Lyrac IX didn't disappear into a black hole but it's still gone; it's once proud and vibrant capitol city obliterated to smithereens, the ruins littered with the dead and obscured by smoke and ash so thick the air will be gray for days. Jim always figured after a few missions he'd get used to it, wouldn't hear the screams or fading pleas for help from innocent people that had no chance of salvation even as they lay dying. The nightmares, when they come, are as bad as they ever were but most nights Jim's sleep is free from dreams, a small mercy he doesn't deserve.

If Spock is dreaming his face has the same look of practiced indifference in sleep as it does when he's awake. For a second Jim wants to shake him just to see the shock he feels mirrored in someone else, but he just curls his body around Spock's and reaches for Spock's hand. Spock tries to move, tries to put some sense of respectable space between them but Jim just clings tighter.

"There's been too much fighting today," he murmurs in Spock's ear, his mouth brushing against skin that's warmer than he'd expected. "Don't fight this."

Jim doesn't question why he's tumbled into Spock's bed instead of Bones'. He knows, and he expresses his reasoning with every touch as he takes Spock's hand, entwining their fingers together and squeezing just so he can feel another's flesh, hot and moving and alive.

He's not sure what to expect from this. He's too drunk to think much or even know anything apart from need...he's not even considering Uhura and the fact that she'll permanently castrate him with a single glare if she finds out about this.

With his other hand, Jim feels for Spock's heart. He fumbles, unable to locate it. A Vulcan's heart isn't in the same place as a human's and when Spock catches on to what Jim's searching for, he takes Jim's hand with his free one and places it over the centre of Spock's torso. Jim doesn't realize he was holding his breath until he releases it at the exact moment he can feel Spock's heartbeat, steady and certain under his palm.

"Nearly lost you," Jim babbles, and he's not thinking of Lyrac IX at all. He's remembering the destruction of Vulcan as though it were days ago and not months, and how Spock had beamed down and almost not made it back up.

They lie still in the silent dark of space until Jim's no longer trembling and eventually he tugs at Spock to turn so he can see him properly. Jim's other hand is still holding Spock's - he only lets go for a for the briefest moment as Spock turns into him before capturing it again - and he brings it to his mouth and kisses the pad of Spock's index finger, knowing that Vulcan's are touch telepaths and that this is what they like. He wants to kiss Spock the human way but now that Spock has been gracious enough to _not_ kick Jim's pathetic, needy ass out of his bed, he won't make this all about him.

Beside, Spock is shuddering and his free hand caresses Jim's cheek, so it's hardly a chore.

"I could easily say the same," Spock replies, after such a long moment Jim can't even recall what he's replying to but he kisses Spock's finger again and moves nearer, closing any remaining distance between them.

"Need you," Jim mumbles. "No captain without his First Officer..."

"There are any number of First Officers within Starfleet who would be suitable to take my place at your side should -"

"No," insists Jim, a little too sharply. His hand tightens around Spock's until he's almost crushing the bones. "You. Just you."

Because Spock is one of the few people on the ship unafraid to call Jim on his bullshit. Spock tells it like it is, Spock is becoming familiar Jim's methods and follows even the most unconventional orders as long as the overall logic of the plan adds up. Spock has his back and 'takes the bullet' without hesitation and Spock cares for the ship and the crew as much as Jim does, in his own unique Vulcan way. And although Spock's insistence on finding logic where Jim can't can be infuriating, Jim is learning the importance of that particularly ability too.

He could have tumbled into bed with Bones because he has enough times before, and Bones knows better than anyone how to put the broken pieces of Jim Kirk back together when he shatters apart like this, skilled and confident doctor's hands well-schooled on where to touch and how to make it better.

It's not Bones who Jim nearly lost today. Bones is safe and sound tucked up in bed where he's supposed to be. Jim doesn't need to second guess the strong and unwavering presence of his CMO on this night.

Jim returns his attention to Spock, realizing he kind of drifted a little farther than he'd meant to when there's a gentle pull on his hand as Spock guides him back through the haze of fog that's coating Jim's mind and growing thicker and thicker as he slips closer to unconsciousness. He resists, needing to feel Spock, to see and touch and affirm beyond a shadow of a doubt.

This time, he kisses Spock his way, letting go of Spock's hand so he can brush his lips softly against Spock's. There is no resistance and when Spock's mouth welcomes Jim's tongue as he cautiously attempts to explore it, it feels like coming home.

The pace is slow. For tonight, they've got time, and Jim curls into every caress and arches into every touch. Spock is patient and forgiving until Jim can't take it anymore and they pick up the pace until everything is harder, faster, _more_, a mass of tangled limbs and sweaty bodies writhing in the sheets.

Exhausted, he finally lets himself fall into the black of a dreamless sleep and it's neither scary nor lonely now. Despite the terror of the day, he feels peace, and the blessed warmth of the slender Vulcan body wrapped around his reassures him even here.

(FIN)


End file.
